The Kissing Booth
by simplelove511
Summary: Padua's cheerleaders have set up a kissing booth for a fundraiser - sluts! But then why is Kat signed up for it?...K/P one-shot, rated "T". Not like my other story, "In Complete Control".


"I mean, seriously?! Why would any girl want to put herself through that?" I asked my best friend Mandela incredulously. We were sitting at an outside table at lunch, watching bubbly blonde bimbos get guys to pay them for a quick kiss on the lips.

"I know, right? Kissing countless guys, and only for two bucks? That's shallow and just plain disgusting," she made a face and I nodded in agreement. We both stared at the Kissing Booth our cheerleaders had set up, apparently to raise money for their new pompoms, or something else just as dumb and frilly.

"They might as well call it the Prostitute Training Booth. That's really all they're doing, selling themselves," I shook my head in disgust.

"As I recall," a deep voice spoke behind me, "you sold yourself for two thousand dollars. Pretty expensive, Kat. I've almost got it though, only two hundred left to go." And there he was: the bane of my life. Patrick Verona. That smirking, annoying, sexy, witty, son of a bitch.

"Right, because chaining myself to a tree to get funding for a walk for the rainforest is really the same as being raped over and over again by pathetic losers who feel the need to dominate and overpower a woman because they can't get a girlfriend," I fumed.

"No, of course it isn't," he smirked, leaning forward and putting a foot on the bench I was sitting on. "But being molested by three teenage guys _while_ chained to that tree is working your way up to that level." Goddamn it.

"Freaking testosterone-filled Neanderthals," I muttered. It is really hard to defend yourself when you're chained up. "If you recall, I bit them and kneed one in the crotch. I don't think that's something a whore would do, do you?" I ask, feigning innocence. The corners of Patrick's lips twitched and he stared at me. As he was about to open his mouth to respond, Bianca suddenly shouted my name. All three of us turned to look at my skinny blonde sister run up to me and give me a shocked expression.

"Hm?" I asked casually, expecting something like 'Chastity chipped a nail! What should I do?' Ugh, it was pathetic how she was always sucking up to that queen bee bitch.

"Why on earth would you sign up to do the booth? Out of all people, I would have never expected it from you. Oh God, you're going to embarrass me!" At first I didn't register what she had said. Then it hit me like a bomb.

"What?!" I screeched, standing straight up. "I did _not_ sign up to do the booth! Why would I even think about doing something like that?! Vile, vomit-inducing boys putting their lips on mine? Uh, no way." I was fuming. I was livid. I'm pretty sure there was steam coming out of my ears.

"Well, you're signed up to be next, so you've got to get over there," she shrugged carelessly.

"Ha! Funny, Bianca. Yeah, real hilarious joke, now can you move on so I can finish eating?"

"Kat, your name is on the list. Come see for yourself if you don't believe me, but someone put you on it." Bianca beckoned me over, and I walked over in a daze. I certainly hadn't added myself to that death list, but then, who _had_? "See?" Bianca pointed at a sheet of paper on a table to the right of the booth.

There, under Bianca's own name, in a handwriting I didn't recognize, was the name Katarina Stratford.

"I am going to kill whoever did this," I snapped icily, her eyes hard.

"Calm down, Kitty-Kat. This is, after all your first training session," Patrick breathed in my ear. I whirled on him and thumped him hard in the chest.

"Don't you dare call me that, asshole," I thundered dangerously. His eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

"Oh my, someone forgot to take their-"

"Shut up, Patrick," Bianca waved in his face with her hand. He jerked back, startled that some sophomore cheerleader would speak to him like that. Wasn't she terrified of him? He shrugged and walked away, into the growing crowd. "Kat, look, a line is growing. You've got to get over there," Bianca said impatiently.

"Ha! No, no, no," I put my hands out in front of me. "Just get the next girl to go."

"Kat, there is no next girl. You're the last for lunch hour – the rest are after school and tomorrow morning. Look," she waved the paper in front of my face, "time slots!" I simply shook my head no. No force on this Earth could make me stand in that booth and kiss a bunch of sleazy guys.

I puckered up and squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for impact. His lips were slimy and his breath smelled bad (I could tell even from our tightly closed mouths). After about a second it was over, and he smiled and left. I could not believe I was doing this.

Bianca had threatened the one thing I couldn't say no to – telling dad that I wasn't a virgin. The problem was, I knew she would do it.

So I found myself face-to-face with my fourth guy and I gagged, taking a swig of water to wash down the taste of the last one. _I cannot _believe_ I am doing this!_ My mind screamed.

"How many more?" I moaned after douche number four left, being replaced by moron number five.

From her perch behind the table where she was filing her nails, Queen Bitch Chastity said, "For the sake of all these poor guys, I'll only make you kiss three more." I inwardly sighed, then grabbed the next boy's face and pressed my lips to his. I hurried along the second one, too. One left!

With a smile I went to grab this kid, but he frowned. "Kat Stratford? No, I signed my girlfriend up for this slot. Ew, I'm outta here." Someone had erased a girl's name and replaced it with mine? This person was going to go down _hard_.

Shaking my head and watching the kid leave, I turned to the next offender and started. There, leaning against the side of the booth, was none other than Patrick Verona.

"Go away Patrick," I groaned. "I only have one left until I can escape this frilly pink box of death."

"Well then it looks like I'm your last victim," he smirked, staring at me intensely. My eyes widened as he dropped his two dollars into the jar. Oh, hell no. Not doing this again.

"No way. I am not kissing you," I stammered.

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it on the rooftop the night of the brushfire," he said, leaning forwards.

I whirled around and grabbed Chastity's arm. "Alright, I kissed my last three, I'm out of here," I spoke hurriedly and made to dart away.

"Katarina Stratford, I already paid. I'm the third and you know it." That stupid, insolent boy. I turned slowly and caught Chastity's raised eyebrow telling me, 'You'd better kiss him'. An idea hit me.

I smiled, fished Patrick's money out of the jar and handed it back, grinning at his dumbfounded expression, and quickly grabbed the guy waiting behind Patrick. Before anybody could say a thing, I pressed my lips to his. My eyes open, I glared right at Patrick, and opened my lips against the boy's. The kid immediately responded, and sucked on my lip. I smiled through the kiss and shoved the boy away.

He had a shocked expression, then said in awe, "Damn, you are an amazing kisser!" and threw in _three_ bucks.

As he walked away, a bit in a daze, I smiled coyly at Patrick's stone-hard face and said innocently, "And I wasn't even trying." With that, I walked away, swinging my hips a bit for added affect.

Apparently it worked, because a couple seconds after I had stepped through the doors into the building, I heard them open again behind me.

"Kat, you better fucking stop," his deep, iron voice said. I kept walking, a smile playing at my lips. I was in control. I heard his boot-footed steps quicken to catch up with me. I didn't slow down or hurry up; he didn't faze me.

Then his hand was on my arm, yanking me to a stop. I shook off his grip and folded my arms across my chest. "What do you want, Verona," I asked, pretending to be peeved. He bought it.

"What. The Hell. Was That." His body shook with controlled rage, and I laughed on the inside.

"Geez, I didn't know you weren't a fan of last-name basis. Chill out." Suddenly my back was pressed against the lockers and Patrick was in my face. I glared a challenge. "It looks like Patrick Verona isn't the one in control for once," I whispered, grinning. His face set and he just stared at me with those liquid black eyes.

"Kat," he breathed. "You are such a fucking turn on." And then he did it.

He kissed me passionately, using his full body to squeeze me between him and the lockers. I slowly lifted my hands and entwined my hands in his hair, pulling his face even more into mine. His hot, dry lips crushed mine, constantly moving and pulling and sucking. I felt his tongue on the tip of my lips, and I granted him access. Immediately, it became a battle between our tongues for possession of my mouth. This was not a war I was going to lose. Slowly, I pushed his tongue back into his mouth, where we continued our duel.

Eventually, the need for oxygen broke us apart. I rested my head on his hard chest, my breathing uneven. I could feel his breathing was ragged, too.

"Pay up," I sighed teasingly. I felt Patrick laugh, and then pull out a couple bucks from his pocket.

"Here," he whispered, still breathing hard. He poked the bills down the front of my shirt and I gasped as his fingers trailed my skin on the way back up. I yanked his face to mine and this time his hands were not the slightest bit inhibited.


End file.
